Not Dead Yet
by goldenryo
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts Harry left the Wizarding World to live in isolation with the Muggles, but doesn't tell anyone.. He believes himself unworthy to come back to Hogwarts because of his past which will be revealed as the story goes on.
1. Gone, Gone, Gone

Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter characters or books. Otherwise this would be a book and Sirius would not be dead.

Not Dead Yet: Gone, Gone, Gone

Once every one realized that Voldemort was actually dead, they cheered. Despite all the dead, it was a relief for it to be finally over. Death Eaters suddenly stopped, confused about what to do. Some still fought, though they were easily repressed due to the Light Side's renewed vigor

But between the last of the battle, mourning and burying the dead, and taking care of the wounded, no one noticed their savior leave. Just like that. Gone. Not to be seen again by anyone from their world for another ten years. Search parties had been sent out when they realized, but he was gone. Some thought he was dead, others that he had been kidnapped by Death Eaters to avenge their master.

Not one person guessed right. What really happened was he left, simple as that. He was done with being the Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Die. So he left the Wizarding World, only venturing there to deal with his property and money. The goblins took pride in that the savior trusted them to keep his identity a secret, so he was safe in that respect. Besides that, he lived like a Muggle, albeit a rich Muggle without a job.

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The neighbors liked him well enough. Though why he was always so sad at such a young age was beyond them. He had moved into the small house by the dead-end. The house had a kitchen, a bathroom, a bedroom, and a small sitting room. He lived there alone. There was no Mrs. Potter.

Despite all this, he was a nice, quiet young man. He donated a generous amount of money to the schools and libraries. Girl Scout Cookie season would come about and his was the first house they went to. Children found he was a good listener and could bring out the cookies while they talked and did their homework. Every Christmas all the kids would get a small present from Mr. Potter.

Other than that he was a little on the short side, but was lean and muscular. Wild raven black hair hid his now dull green eyes. Almost everyone called him 'Uncle Potter.' None of them knew he was also depressed to the point of being suicidal. Not that he needed to kill himself, he was dying anyway.

Apparently, you can't survive the killing curse two times and live normally. He would tire faster, and casting the simplest spells made him weak beyond belief. He wasn't all that upset about dying, he welcomed it even. All he wanted to do was say goodbye to the place he called home before departing from this world.

It came as a surprise to everyone when they found he left in the night. After all, he had lived there for ten years. His lawyer came knocking on all of their doors, leaving outrageous amount of money as well as gifts that Uncle Potter had left to them. Nine year old Nick Thistle got his owl, which came with a note saying he would need her in a couple of years. Harry Potter never came back.


	2. Guilt

A special thank you to Prince of Miracles and ceraphim for adding this story to their favorites. Another thank you to GinnyPotter6891 and Old Girl Lost for following as well as all who reviewed.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter books or characters. That is a bit obvious because Remus and Tonks are still dead. *sob*

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Not Dead Yet: Guilt

Dudley Dursley had kept in touch with his cousin even though his parents pretended their nephew didn't exist. Harry had forgiven him for the 'childhood in hell' he had had. Dudley regretted that more than anything. He still felt the least he could do was be a good friend, and hopefully, family.

He was also the only one that knew the extent to Harry's suicidal condition, as well as his impending death from the killing curses. When Harry told him of the visit he planned to take to Hogwarts, Dudley warned him to be careful. He also felt guilty because he was part of the reason Hogwarts was his real home. Dudley also knew that no matter how hard he tried to be family to Harry, the damage was done. You can't repair years of telling someone they are a freak and not worthy of love wasn't repaired in a day.

Kreacher was to accompany him to Hogwarts. Harry insisted on asking permission to enter Hogwarts. He was under the delusion that he might not be welcome. Old habits died hard. He still didn't think they actually cared about him. In spite of everything, he believed it was just a ruse to get him to kill Moldy-Shorts (a.k.a. Voldemort.) Both Kreacher and Dudley found that ridiculous, but they decided to just humor the dying man.

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The Sorting had just ended and Headmistress McGonagall was about to start her welcome back speech. Six teachers sat on the left side. Muggle Studies- Seamus Finnegan, Potions- George Weasley, Transfiguration- Hermione Weasley nee Granger, Charms- Flitwick, Herbology- Neville Longbottom, Defense Against the Dark Arts- Luna Longbottom nee Lovegood sat to the left.

On the right seven teachers sat: Astronomy- a centaur called Cercatore (standing of course), Divination- Parvati Patil, Care of Magical Creatures- Hagrid, Quidditch/ DA- Ronald Weasley, Healers Narcissa Malfoy and Molly Weasley, and Blaise Zabini teaching Pureblood Customs. All had a sense of self importance and power, coupled with a nearly undetectable hint of sadness about them.

She had just opened her mouth to speak, when the crack of an apparition sounded. Kreacher stood hunched other in the middle of the Great Hall. Instead of the rags he used to wear, he was dressed in a tailored suit and an air of humble superiority. None had seen him since The Battle of Hogwarts. Not that they tried that hard to locate him anyway.

He bowed to a baffled Minerva McGonagall. Speaking in an authoritative voice he croaked, "Master Harry Potter begs permission to enter Hogwarts. Does Headmistress grant it? The entire Great Hall was murmuring to each other. Their savior was coming to Hogwarts? He was alive? Kreacher looked up at the Headmistress expectantly.

When she finally managed to get her vocal chords to function, she said, "Of course Mr. Potter is welcome in Hogwarts. He shouldn't have to ask." Kreacher smiled a bit and stood straighter. "Now that we have that out of the way, I _personally_ also ask that you not interrogate him. He only wished to say his final goodbyes to the only place he ever called home." A solemn silence filled the Hall only broken by another resounding crack as the house elf disaparated away.

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**Oh. A cliffy. You people really hate me now don't you? I have already written the next chapter, I swear. It just needs some editing. I will only be able to update once a week for a couple of weeks because of testing, but in the mean time you can vote on how often you would like me to update. A review on your preference on length chapters.**


	3. He's Home

**Thank you to all who have favorited and followed this story. I do plan on updating at least once a week. I can not promise they will be lengthy, just that I will update.**

**Disclaimer: Did Percy abandon his family? Still? I guess that was just a dream that I owned Harry Potter...**

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The tension only grew when he apparated back. This time, Kreacher supported a figure in a hooded black cloak. Slightly stooped, it was clear he had seen hard times. The figure turned his head toward the Head Table. "I am honored and thankful to be allowed to way my final goodbyes. I do not wish to burden you with my presence so I will not stay long." The voice was unmistakably that of Harry Potter, but hoarser, and… forced, as if he were in pain.

Hermione, always level headed, processed what he said first, "But Harry, we don't see you as a burden. You are welcome to walk these halls anytime." Coming out of their shock the others nodded in agreement to her statement.

Harry gave a dark chuckle. "You don't have to pretend anymore Hermione. I know I am unwelcome. I killed Voldemort and now I have no purpose in life anymore. There is no other reason for my being. All my troubles that had nothing to do with that were dismissed. Abused at home? Oh well. One of your friends died? It's your fault so suck it up. The only parental figure in your life is dead? Too bad. Now you have more reason to kill Voldemort. More reason to become a murderer. But it's alright. I knew what I was getting into when I came here."

He turned toward Kreacher," May we walk to the dungeons? I do not want to impose on our hosts any longer." The house elf sighed. "Of course we may, Master Harry. But only if you take some anti-depressants." If Harry wanted something Kreacher always tried to wheedle some medication into him. He knew Harry wouldn't order him anyway. As it was he was aware that his master thought of Kreacher as the one giving the orders. This only went to show how low his self-esteem was that he believed himself to be lower than a house-elf._  
_

Harry's shoulders slumped further. "Fine," then, before anyone could utter a protest, they had disappeared into Hogwarts' many halls. Hermione burst into tears and Ron hurried to comfort her. The hall erupted into hushed speculations. Was the great Harry Potter dying? Suicidal? Had he been living in hiding in hiding these past years? This time, all their speculations were true.

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**I am so sorry. This is just a teaser really. My muses decided to go sing with Disney instead.**


	4. The Whole Story-teaser

Not Dead Yet: The Whole Story

Kreacher POV (weren't expecting _that_ now were you?)

I knew the people of Hogwarts cared for Master. They would want the full story of why Harry Potter had left in the first place. I was also aware that Master would not be happy that he told. Not that Master was happy anyway. The most he would do about it was say he wished I hadn't told. So I decided to tell.

When we got down to the dungeons, Master was out of breath. I told him to sit so he could breathe better. Then, I gave him the anti-depressants. What Master didn't know was the water he was using to swallow them had Dreamless Sleep in it. Master was asleep within the minute. I quickly took him to what is known as the 'Room of Requirement.' There, I laid him on a bed, and hurried out of the room.

As soon as I got a fair enough distance from the room, I called to one of my acquaintances at Hogwarts. Soon, Missy appeared next to me. "Where are the people who care for my Master?" I croaked.

"They be in the Headmistress's office, they be." She replied, and nodding to me, she disapparated back to the kitchens. The next moment, I was gone to, going to where those who wish for Master to live be.

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In the Great Hall:

Minerva McGonagall POV

When Harry left the Hall, I felt my heart break. He didn't feel as though we loved him. The poor boy thought it was all just an act. I had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with those _Dursleys_. I sneered the word in my mind. I told Albus he shouldn't have left Harry with those… those…_things_! Instead, the child (Despite him being 27 years old, I still thought of him as a child) doesn't believe we can love him. That, for me, who has cared for him like a grandmother, is the most heartbreaking thing in the world. Lily would bring Albus back to life just to kill him a thousand times over if she knew. After letting her opinion be known to the Dursleys, of course.

Shaking those thoughts from my mind, I gathered my bearings enough to realize that no one had given chase to the broken hero. All the students were murmuring amongst each other; telling of the greatly exaggerated adventures of the Chosen One, no doubt.

I also took notice of all his friends huddled around Hermione. She had taken his death hard, and was the last- besides Ginny- to believe the news. Ronald, George, and Molly seemed to realize this as well. How were we supposed to tell Ginny?!

In any case I could see that if we didn't take action now, then the reporters of the Daily Prophet would catch wind of it. The result of that would not be pretty. As it was, all the students would be sure to inform their family, family friends, and every hobo on the street that Harry Potter was alive and at Hogwarts.

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**AN: I feel really bad about the delay. I don't even have any good excuses except chores. The next update will be before the month is over, I promise. This is just a teaser because I realized I hadn't updated recently and this was all I had written.**

**Again, infinitely sorry,**

**Goldenyro**


	5. The Whole Story

Not Dead Yet: The Whole Story

Ronald Weasley POV

I could not believe this was happening. My best mate was alive! The only problem was, it seemed he wouldn't be for much longer. I tried to ignore this darker part of my mind, but it was no use. His words echoed in my mind, each one like a stab in the heart. _"I know I am unwelcome. I killed Voldemort and now I have no purpose in life anymore. There was no other reason for my being."_

Harry had thought we didn't really care about him? To be honest, I couldn't really blame him. I had foolishly abandoned my best mate twice too many when he had needed me most. For years I had been dreaming of seeing him again and apologizing for my despicable actions toward him. Now I wonder if I will have that chance.

After things had calmed down in the Great Hall somewhat, we (McGonagall, the Longbottoms, all the Weasleys, and Malfoys on the staff.) made our way into Headmistress McGonagall's office. We have been working together for seven years and I still can't call her Minerva. She is too intimidating for that. So when we arrived in the office to find the very house elf that had brought Harry over in the first place, the poor creature was practically a quivering mess from the glare he was submitted to. Clearly, she wanted information.

Kreacher cleared his throat, eyes flicking to each of us. "You all wish Master Harry to live, yes?" I observed his nervous demeanor, as if he was doing something he shouldn't be. How suspicious. I need to keep an eye on-Ugh. Now I was acting like a bloody Slytherin. And _that's_ what I get for being bloody friends with the lot.

In response we all nodded mutely, waiting for any piece of information we could get on Harry's condition. Satisfied, Kreacher warily began his tale. "After the battle Master Harry came back to House of Black and told Kreacher to pack his things. Master Harry bought a Muggle house and stayed there. But Master tired easily so Kreacher took Master to the Healer. 'The killing curses were slowly doing their job' was what Healer Smith told Kreacher.

"Master Harry had Kreacher bring his cousin, Master Dudley. Master Dudley took care of Master Harry's finances so Master Harry would not have to." Bloody Hell! This elf was not making any bloody sense! He still hasn't told us why Harry thinks that we were pretending to be his friends and care about him! I was already tearing at the seams in distress, so I voiced these thoughts with impatience.

We all noticed the house elf hesitate, like he wanted to tell us, but wasn't sure how to word it in a way that we wouldn't act all pycho on him. I have lots of experience with that sort of demeanor. Mum telling me she had enjoyed working with Mrs. Malfoy and Hermione informing me that she was pregnant with our first child were just a few such times that had happened. They say my reactions are unpredictable. I wonder why.

The house elf thought for a second. "Tomorrow, go to Willow Apartments, room 412 in London Hills. Kreacher will arrange for one of the other elves to watch Master Harry so then Kreacher may accompany you there. Master Dudley may find it easier to fill you in on such matters." With yet another loud *pop*, he disappeared.

Hermione broke down in a fresh round of sobs. She hated it when she didn't know what to do, especially when it concerned one of her best friends since first year. Even back then my 'Mione had felt more like a mother to Harry. She tried not to show it too much, terrified that he would take it the wrong way and think she was trying to replace his own Mum. However, now her little baby was hurting. She just couldn't stand the thought of him thinking he wasn't wanted.

With heavy hearts, we all made our way back to our own rooms. Classes were going to be cancelled tomorrow so we could go to the address Kreacher had told us.

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Filius Flitwick POV

We decided to leave early, which was a good thing. Kreacher had us apparate to London. From there we were taken practically all over the city. Finally arriving, we were in for a yet another obstacle. There were so many charms and wards around the place we had a hard time getting through even with Kreacher's help.

When we eventually did, the majority of our group just stared at the door. The rest were busy sobbing their hearts out- not that they didn't have every right to, of course. I admit we must have looked like a strange company in our Muggle clothing.

Finally, George managed to gather his Gryffindor courage and knock. We waited with bated breath for the answer. Another eternity later, a young man, who I assumed was Dudley Dursley, opened the door. He had strawberry blonde hair, and was surprisingly fit. I remember the Weasley twins going on about a whale during their fourth year. How absurd.

However, there was a haggard look in his eyes. It was similar to those who had fought in the Battle of Hogwarts. I suppose Mr. Dursley had his own battle to fight. And, by the looks of it, he wasn't certain he would win any of them.

George Weasley POV

O. M. a G. WOW. Dudley seems to have really changed. He definitely does not look like a whale anymore. He resembled a bodyguard more like. If only Fred could see this guy now. Huh. Now I can only hope it was not only his looks that changed. Otherwise, _someone_ is going to get hexed. *cough cough* Dursley *cough cough*

On the other hand, I was terribly nervous. This dude had negative reason to like me. For all the ten minutes we were in the same room, Fred and I had cruelly pranked him. As we were motioned into the apartment, I promised myself that if Dudley Dursley proved himself to be a good cousin to Harry, I would forgive the ex-lump and apologize.

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**To Be Continued…**

Yeah, I am not that mean. Besides, the name of the chapter is 'The Whole Story.'

Dudley Dursley POV

After welcoming the magical folk into my apartment, I didn't know where to start. There was already bad water between myself and George, Ron, and Hermione. So along with actually telling them what was wrong with their savior, I had to prove to them that I was trying my best to take care of Harry. Just great. At least Harry himself is safe at Hogwarts. Hopefully they will be able to figure out what is wrong with him. For some reason I had a sinking feeling it had something to do with his childhood; or rather, lack thereof.

"Would you care for some tea?" I managed to ask at last. Small smiles accompanied by nods were the only answers I got. I figured they didn't care for the pleasantries, but I wanted to know about them before I told them. Ron looked like he was about to burst. He was the same color Dad used to get while yelling at Harry: a reddish puce color. Not a very pleasant image.

Starting the tea, I forced out, "So you finally want to know." The disapproval was clear in my voice. Good. They should understand the pain and loneliness they put Harry through. When Dumbledore put Harry on our doorstep, he neglected to ask permission. Actually, if he had read Aunt Lily's will, Harry never would have ended up there in the first place. But back to the doorstep.

I could see McGonagall fidgeting. So she was there when it happened then, eh? She'll just have to redeem herself then. "Twenty-seven years ago Mom had gone out to get the milk and paper, and instead found a baby. The only clue she had to knowing how the baby got there was a letter." I practically spat out the words, too disgusted by the way Harry had been treated before he could even walk. Left out on a doorstep? Really? "It was in this way she found out it was her nephew by the sister she pretended didn't exist. Needless to say, Mom wasn't too thrilled with raising another child."

Pausing, I glimpsed a few stray tears on Hermione's face she had been valiantly trying to brush off. I knew that she was aware of some of the things Mom and Dad did to Harry. But my cousin was good at hiding things. I couldn't help thinking silently to her: Just wait until you hear how they treated him, Hermione. It is going to get a whole lot worse. You think withholding food and locking him up in his room was bad? Just you wait.

"She convinced my Dad we needed to take him in. Wouldn't want the Freaky Kind on our tail now would we?" My sarcastic and bitter tone alerted my guests to the title I had referred to them as. No one dared speak though. They were afraid of the answers they might receive. Too bad. They deserved the pain.

"Harry got the bare minimum of what was needed. Leftovers for food, and only my clothes to cover his back. He started doing chores as soon as he could walk steadily and Mom didn't have to worry he would break something. I had quickly realized that other children my age didn't have a cousin to clean up after them and serve them hand and foot to their every whim."

Many of the adults in the room were staring at me in horror. A _child_ being treated like _that_ was unspeakable. I chuckled darkly in my mind. Again, they think _this_ is bad? And I forgot to mention the cupboard. This was probably the best Harry was ever treated while in our care. Oh, the wonders of the oblivious never cease to amuse.

"They knew he would probably end up being a Freak, but hoped they could- what did my dad say- beat the freakishness out of him. So that was what they did. Every time he did something 'bad' he would get punished. Dad had to wear gloves, for his own protection of course." The tea kettle sounded. I walked back to the kitchen to pour the tea. I knew my guests would need a moment to recover from the information I had presented them with.

Draco Malfoy POV

Up until now I had been silent. Quietly listening to the abuse my former rival had suffered. It was despicable. The Muggles really thought they could beat the magic out of him? Really? I hadn't begun Accidental Magic until I was seven. My parents were terrified. Mom had started to actually care for me, even though it was against being a Malfoy. Dad just didn't want anyone to tarnish the Malfoy name. So he would Crucio me, thinking, I don't know, that I would awaken the magic in me? Shaking those thought from my mind, I still couldn't help thinking that perhaps Harry and I weren't so different after all.

"So, you mean to say, that Harry grew up believing that he couldn't be loved? He was taught that magic was bad and it should be rejected? Then why does he act like he isn't worthy of being in our presence? We have magic?" I spoke mostly to myself. The Dursley kid winced in response.

"That's the thing. He realized that you guys weren't being ridiculed for having magic, so he surmised that it was only he who was a freak. Harry figured that he didn't deserve to be loved, let alone have magic." I could see the pain flickering between his words. Dursley really cared about his cousin. Interesting. "He was confused as to why he would be welcomed into your world so readily. But then when you guys mentioned that Voldie might not be completely dead, and he came to believe that you only wanted him to be there to defeat him again."

I heard Harry's words echo in my mind: _I killed Voldemort and now I have no purpose in life anymore. There was no other reason for my being._ Now I understood. No wonder I always felt Harry took the 'Courageous Gryffindor' thing a bit too far. The guy was practically suicidal-no, he _was_ suicidal. I was dragged from my musings by a renewed round of sobbing on Granger's part. Somehow I couldn't help feeling sorry for her despite the fact that she had partially brought this on herself.

How could we have been so ignorant?

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**AN: For those of you who are confused, or want more on this discussion, I might continue this scene next chapter. Just know it might be hard for me to update until next week. I already had to put one of my stories on hiatus for this.**

**On another note, I finally figured out how to save Harry from his impending death. To be honest, he was originally just going to die. Then I figured you guys wouldn't like that very much…**

**I know I forgot to mention this, but I really like reviews. They make me very happy. Just one of those smiley faces would be nice.**


	6. A Sad Truth

**Important author's note at the end for those who care. For those who don't, there is still an important author's note.**

**Disclaimer: Despite all the time and work and skill I put into this, I still own none of it. I thought America was a free county! *sob***

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Not Dead Yet: A Sad Truth

Hermione Weasley POV

I was absolutely horrified. The treatment of Harry by the Dursleys was disgusting. Even with all this abuse Dudley told us of, I couldn't help thinking he was holding back. This scared me. If he felt comfortable telling me that Harry was starved as a child and not whatever it was he wasn't saying, then it must be awful. And that does _not_ mean full of awe.

Molly Weasley POV

To be honest, I wasn't surprised. I had a bad feeling about those Dursleys since the moment the name hit my ears. I was also heartbroken that my little Harry had been treated this way. He thought that I only _pretended_ to love him because he didn't know what love was like. This little fact hit home. I came from a large, loving family and I raised my own to be the same. Anyone that didn't know what that was like was a poor soul indeed.

George Weasley POV

I could tell Mum wasn't taking the news well. She was pretty close to breaking down along with Hermione. I wasn't holding up too well either. **We had been right there.** We saw firsthand the _neglect_ and _abuse_ Harry had suffered. The kid had been bloody locked up in his room complete with bars on the windows! There was even an honest to Gryffindor _catflap_ on the door beneath the array of locks. It was only until later that I reflected it was to pass him his food without opening the door. His school supplies had been locked in a cupboard. Fred and I never told anyone-or even spoke to each other about it-, but we saw writing on the wall of the cupboard. The two scribbled words haunted me now: HARRY'S ROOM.

Neville Longbottom POV

I once thought of myself as a close friend of Harry's . Now, I was uncertain of this claim. For all the time I have known him Harry has been secretive. He hated his fame with a burning passion. Despite all that he was a loyal friend and was always doing the brave and noble thing. After hearing what his motivation was, I couldn't help but admire Harry even more. As far as he knew, we would all turn on him once his 'purpose was fulfilled.' Yet he still helped us.

Of course, he actually was a bit on the suicidal side, so that made the heroic stuff a bit easier for him I'd imagine. Nevertheless he was a good friend and would do anything for those he cared about. I winced, thinking of the sacrifices he had made for those he didn't even know; a childhood, for example.

Ronald Weasley POV

I'll admit. I was angry. Why the bloody hell didn't he tell us! We were his friends for Merlin's sake! I tell him all my secrets and all he never spoke one bloody word! If he had just _said_ something- Suddenly, all my anger left, like air out of one of those balloon things with a hole. I found myself replaying the first day we met in my mind:

_"__I heard you went to live with Muggles," I said. "What are they like?"_

_"__Horrible- well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I had three wizard brothers."_

_"__Five," I said. I was a bit gloomy about it 'cause I was always in their shadow. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I have a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie already left- Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around al lot, but they get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects met to do as well as the others, but if I do it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."_

_I reached inside my jacket and pulled out Scabbers, who was asleep. "His name is Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being make a prefect, but they couldn't aff- I mean, I got Scabbers instead." I was sure my ears were red, thinking I had said too much. I turned to continue to stare at the window._

_Harry then told me he'd never had any money in his life until a month ago. He also told me about having to wear his cousin Dudley's old clothes and never getting proper birthday presents. For some reason, that cheered me up at the time._

Now, it made me sick. He _had_ told me and I had ignored it over my own stupid problems. From what Dudley just said, he probably figured he didn't matter. I laid my head in my hands, trying to block everything out. Boy was I a pompous jerk. So oblivious to others that I never realized the one I called my best mate was abused at home.

Minerva McGonagall POV

I felt a weight settle on my shoulders. And I let it. I deserved it, after all. One of my cubs was hurting for nearly two decades, and I did nothing to stop it. Tears threatened to spill from desert eyes. Unconsciously, I clutched at my heart, desperate to make the pain go away. I figured this was how Albus had felt: responsible for so much pain. I felt as though I had aged twenty years. But the blame was not on time, but on me. I let myself cry, sobs wracking at my body, cutting off my breath.

Filius Flitwick POV

Hearing my long-time colleague despair like that, made my heart break. She was like an older sister to me; a lion that would never fall back in a fight and would continue to fight until their last breath in order to protect the ones they love. Minerva cared for each and every one of her 'cubs' and hated to see any of them in pain.

We have come across many cases of abused children over the years. Severus had been a victim himself. I felt a pang in my chest for doubting him until it was too late. We could only try our best to prevent this from happening. No child deserved to be treated like that.

Harry's cousin had said they treated Harry like he was a freak. Did that mean the poor boy believed he couldn't do well academically? I have always been a strong believer in the right mindset for learning and doing well in school. Perhaps he was attempting to fit in? There were times when his work hinted that he could do better, as if he was trying _not_ to do well.

Narcissa Malfoy POV

I only ever met the boy once. Before that, his name was always spoken with a sneer. I was surprised when I saw a child, broken down by the war, appear in those woods to save those he cared about and those he didn't know. He looked like he was hurting, like it hurt to live. He was not like the monster the Dark Lord-no, Tom Riddle- made him out to be. Certainly not the bully Draco had told me he was. No, all I saw was a child who was being taken advantage of in a war. Just because he saved us once, he was automatically expected to save us again. Even those who knew nothing of the prophecy expected it.

My heart had broken at the scene of the green ray of death shoot from Tom Riddle's wand. The boy arched, before falling lifelessly to the ground. I felt a sort of motherly pride at saving his life by telling Tom Riddle he was dead. Later, I was told by a shaking Draco that Harry had saved his life.

Luna Longbottom POV

"The Child once hurt will rise again

Love will prevail in the remnants of the dark

Friends and family must gather close

To save their Savior from Himself

Learn His past, know His heart

Shield Him from thought of dark

Help Him know love and happiness

It is His only hope."

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I hope you guys aren't too mad at me for this sort-of-cliffy-thing. I will probably be able to update more often now that my mother refuses to buy me books until I have finished my book report…Whatever.** Remember, reviews remind me that I have a responsibility to write stuff for you guys to read.**

**Anyway, the thing that Luna said was a prophecy**. I always got the feeling she was able to See things clearer than others and now she has a better handle on the power. **Let me know what you think.**

**Poll Question: **Should Harry end back up with Ginny, or someone else? However, I do not want him to end up a loner. (Note: I am not against gay couples. *hint hint* Draco is free ;-)

Man of Constant Sorrow: I am trying to keep this canon as much as I can, which is why it has Ron/Hermione.

sjrodgers23: Thank you for being such a loyal reader

anonymous chick: Your ideas are what help me write. Thank you for your help!


	7. Let Me Die In Peace

Not Dead Yet: Let Me Die In Peace

Of course, the assemble was startled when Luna spoke the prophecy. When they finally got over their shock, they realized this meant there was hope for Harry after all. Dudley felt tears spring up in his eyes. He was pretty sure what the prophecy entailed. He would have to tell them more of what Harry's childhood was like. Or lack thereof.

It made him happy though, to see the determined faces of the mentioned friends and family. He knew that they would do their very best to ensure that Harry would know the meaning of love and happiness. Dudley was also glad to see for himself that these wizards and witches actually cared for their savior. From what he had heard from Harry, he was expecting for there to be costumes shed and evil smirks as they screamed at him that he was worthless. Yep, much different picture.

Draco Malfoy POV

No wonder Luna Lovegood was so loony. She's a Seer. I'm just glad she found someone to ground her to this world before she became as queer as Trelawney. I gave a shudder at the horrendous thought. According to the prophecy, we need to fully understand Harry's past, understand what he is feeling, and make him feel better, otherwise he will die. That is just plain wonderful. I have to somehow get along with someone I have never said a single kind word to. Just wonderful.

All da Married Ladies plus Minnie POV

*sob, more sobbing, wailing, and wallowing in guilt*

Neville Longbottom POV

I could easily put the others in two categories from their reactions to the prophecy. Hermione, Molly, Mrs. Malfoy, and Headmistress McGonagall were looking devastated and heartbroken. The rest of us, however, did not have as much of a maternal side and were analyzing the prophecy. My darling Moon was lying on my shoulder a bit dazed. It was sometimes hard for her to return to the real world after Seeing something as big as that. I was glad she did though.

After calming the women, we all turned back toward our host, who we had somehow forgotten in our grief. He looked tired and weary, but there was a new spark of determination in his eyes. I knew Dudley would do nearly anything to help his cousin. From what I'd heard, it was most likely for redemption. Closing my eyes, I leaned back into the comfy couch and sighed. This had been an emotionally long day.

Soon after, we left Dudley's house and went back to the ancient school. Arriving back at Hogwarts, we discovered that the whole castle was talking about Harry Potter and his return to Hogwarts. Most had already prepared the letters that they would send home first thing in the morning.

Kreacher led us to the Room of Requirement where he said he had put Harry. We didn't need to be told that Harry didn't go willingly. Without having to pace in the corridor, Kreacher walked straight through the seemingly innocent plain brown door. We followed closely behind.

Inside it was homey and pleasant. The middle of the room was occupied by a large bed piled high with blankets and pillows. I never would have known there was someone in the bed if not for the constant shivering and coughing of one who has a cold.

"Master should be waking up now," Kreacher informed us. I nodded absently and continued to study the room. There was a fire burning in the corner with comfy chairs around it. Book shelves occupied the walls, along with many portraits that seemed to be keeping an eye on things. It was only then that I noticed that Draco, Filius, Headmistress McGonagall, and I were the only other ones in the room. I figured that Molly and Hermione couldn't handle it so George and Ron stayed behind.

I was broken from my reverie by a piercing scream. "Stop it!" I turned toward the bed, from where the noise seemed to be coming from. As an onlooker, it was a sorry scene indeed. I didn't need to look up in order to know that everyone else was wearing solemn expressions that matched mine.

Harry was in the clutches of yet another nightmare. During school, everyone in our dorm had witnessed them. But we never approached Harry about it, or even mentioned it outside the dorms. For some reason we didn't even put up a silencing charm up. In any case, the nightmares seemed to have gotten worse, which none of us had imagined could even be possible.

As our Savior fought the unknown foe, Kreacher held his flailing limbs down to keep him from hurting himself. Harry slowly regained consciousness, frowning at the unfamiliar surroundings. In the same rasping voice from before he said, "What are we still doing at Hogwarts, Kreacher?"

Kreacher trembled and his voice illustrated that. "Kreacher promised to take care of Master Harry. Kreacher must protect Master from himself and is be needing help. Master's friends promised Kreacher to do what they can to help Master." The house elf looked so sincere that I had a hard time of seeing him as the 'bitter critter with a heart the color of the House he so willingly slaves after" as Ron had described him before the summer after Sixth Year.

Draco Malfoy POV

The nightmare surprised me. I mean, I had some for a few years after the war, but I barely get any nowadays. Neville was unfazed though, as if this wasn't anything new. This revelation led me to believe the nightmares had started long before the war-perhaps even before Hogwarts. Dursley had certainly hinted at something of the sort.

Kreacher's boldness however, didn't surprise me in the slightest. In fact, most of Dobby's wounds came from protecting me from my father's wrath. What many didn't know was that Dobby was my mother's house elf. Black house elves used to be well known for being loyal and protective.

"Why do you have to force me onto them, Kreacher? They are honest and hardworking people who shouldn't have to take care of a person as worthless as me? I'm going to die anyway, so their efforts will all be in vain." Harry bit out in a world weary voice. I did not fail to notice the trembling of his limbs as he attempted to haul himself out of bed. Kreacher hurried to assist him.

"Master's friends insist on helping Master get better. Master Dudley says he wants to help too. Kreacher is only doing what is best for Master. Even if Master is not knowing what is best for him." The elf said this with such conviction Harry collapsed back on the bed in defeat.

He still made one last stand to get what he wanted. "But Kreacher, this is what I want. I want to die in peace without disturbing anyone. There is no need for the others to trouble themselves with a lost cause." I felt a sudden wave of sympathy for Kreacher come over me all of a sudden. The poor elf probably had to deal with his master talk of dying this entire time.

"Potter, the hope that Ronald will stop calling me a ferret is a lost cause. You on the other hand, are not." I feigned concern, "Unless you were turned into a ferret as well?" Kreacher jumped at the unexpected booming laugh erupt from the pile of blankets. I smirked in triumph. Nothing was ever too big of a challenge for a Malfoy.

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**AN: Thank you so much for reading. Please review!**


	8. Motherly Care

Not Dead Yet: Motherly Care

Encouraged that there was still hope for her best friend, Hermione began to do what she did best: learn. She combed through every single book that might give a clue on how to understand Harry's condition. After consulting with Healer Smith, she directed her researching towards the psychology books; specifically those targeting child abuse and their effects.

Harry was still skeptical. He had given up hope long ago. Surprisingly, it was Draco who managed to get him to actually eat. Kreacher immediately took a liking to Draco and recruited him for the 'Get Harry to Stay Alive' campaign. After less than a week, it had grown considerably.

Minerva changed their schedules so at least one of them was with Harry. Everyone was determined to get Harry to feel loved. So far, he had shied away from any sort of affection. It seemed he did not believe they actually cared about him.

Molly had taken to spending nearly every minute of her time with Harry. Narcissa picked up the slack, understanding her colleague's need to be with her son. In fact, they were all spending as much time as possible to make the man feel loved. Until Hermione found out more, that was the most they could do.

Molly POV

I was still heartbroken. I was angry even more so. The nerve of those despicable people! Honestly, hurting my baby like that! The only reason I hadn't wrung their necks was Harry needed me. I got to know him a little more over the next few weeks.

I would read to him from the books I had read to the boys and Ginny when they were young. He stayed quiet and offered no response. At first it there was a tense silence in the air. Then, after a week or so, it eased into a quiet and comfortable atmosphere. I briefly smiled, remembering the day he got up the courage to ask me to reread a poem.

_It was the ninth day he had been at Hogwarts. I arrived at the Room of Requirement as usual at 5 o'clock in the evening. I nodded at Kreacher who had barely left his master's side since he got us to help Harry._

_The object of our concern sat amongst his pile of blankets and pillows. His thin, pale, body seemed to drown in the covers. His eyes were blank, but somehow still full of pain. However, this time he had a book in his lap. Or rather, where his lap would be._

_The book was the one I had read to him out of the day before. It was a book of poetry, since I had realized Harry enjoyed those more. Harry's hands shook as his frail arms lifted the books from the bed. I rushed to take the book from his hands. It just wouldn't do for him to hurt himself carrying a book, now would it?_

"_Be careful, dearest. You shouldn't be picking up heavy things like that! You're so thin, you might snap your arms." I said in explanation. I had not failed to notice the look of terror in his eyes when I took the book from him. It made me want to cry all over again._

_As the book was transferred to my hands, I realized there was a bookmark in it, marking a poem. A small smile graced my lips when I realized what it was he wanted. I cleared my throat and spoke in a soft, but clear voice:_

_There is no point in living_

_If there is no one to live it for_

_There is no point in staying_

_If no one is going to be there_

_There is no point in loving_

_If they don't love you back_

_But rest assured, good sir,_

_There is at least one person who cares_

_He was crying. Heart-wrenching sobs wracked his body. He tried to curl up on himself, as if the pain were too much. Kreacher was there in an instant. However, I was one step ahead. I had wrapped him up in a hug, and hoped for the best._

_At first, he resisted, then gave into the urge to be comforted. I chanted in his ear 'I care' until he gave into exhaustion and fell into a blissful sleep. That was the first time I saw him with a smile while he slept in a long time._

We didn't mention it anyone. Kreacher certainly did not mention it. That house elf's loyalties remain with Harry, and only Harry. The only reason he would have to spill is if it would help the poor child.

After that night, I noticed a change in him. He ate a bit more and did not look up for permission to do the smallest things. I need to speak with Dudley again about the extent of the abuse. I don't know what my children have been talking about. That boy is the sweetest, most handsome gentleman I have ever met.

Harrry POV **(AN:like that do ya?)**

I stared at the canopy above the bed I was in. So far I had refused to call it mine despite the fact that the others referred to it as such. Which was another thing I didn't understand. What were they doing here? They should be going on with their lives, not wasting it on me.

Mrs. Weasley read me these wonderful books. I imagined she had read them to her children before. It was soothing, in a way. I loved the poetry books the best. They way she spoke them gave each stanza a thousand meanings. When she left, she usually left the book on my bedside table.

Finally taken over by curiosity, I paged through it. Normally I wouldn't do something like that without asking permission, but Mrs. Weasley had always made me feel safe. Wanted. She rarely ever mentioned me having to fight Voldemort. In fact, she had made it clear to everyone she did not approve of sending me out to fight him.

I was idly looking at the poems, when one caught my eye. I nodded to myself at the first six lines. Yes, I already knew this, That is what I've been telling Kreacher and Dudley for the past ten years. But then I read the last two lines. My heart stopped. No. It couldn't be true. No one cared. Kreacher was bound to serve me, so he didn't count. Dudley was just fulfilling some family obligation he thought he had to me.

The poem stayed in the center of my mind all day. It was a tennis match inside my head. Mrs. Weasley cares. No she doesn't. She's just pretending. She doesn't have a reason to pretend. The others pretended for years, why not now as well. What about Dudley? He's been taking care of me for a while. We've discussed this before, Dudley thinks he has family obligations. Kreacher? He couldn't stop serving you if he tried. Draco? Where the hell did you get Draco from? IDK.

I ignored that part of my mind after that. My thoughts were still firmly clamped on that poem. I bookmarked the page to look at later. The next thing I knew, it was five o'clock again. Mrs. Weasley walked in, exuding that feeling that made me feel safe inside. In a split second decision, I picked up the book and held it out to her. She rushed to take it from my hands.

At first, I thought she would be mad at me for touching it. I flinched back, terror clear in my eyes. It was only when she explained that she had taken it because she didn't want me to hurt myself that I relaxed. I glanced up shyly at her, to see if she had opened the book. She had.

Her voice rang clear. The words held more meaning as she read them. I noticed her voice was wavering, as if the poem pained her. I glanced up again. There were tears in her eyes. I closed mine, letting the words wash over me. She spoke the last line: "There is at least one person who cares."

I gave into the sobs and let them wrack my body. I knew Kreacher would be there soon to investigate what was wrong with his Master. But I was too lost in the emotional pain. Suddenly, warm arms embrace me and pulled me against the body they were attached to. Mrs. Weasley chanted in my ear, "I care" over and over. This only made me cry harder. She's lying. She's lying.

**AN: I updated finally! Now, for those of you are like "Yipee. Now I'll have to wait another two weeks for her to update again," stop doubting. I already have the next chapter completely written. In fact, I have begun writing chapter 10 as well.**


	9. Overcoming Difficulties I

**Thanks to GinnyPotter6891 for being my Beta. She had been invaluable in writing this. In fact, without her, Ginny would have never made an appearance. I had totally forgotten about her until GinnyPotter mentioned it...**

**Anyway, here is chapter whatever-chapter-this-is-supposed-to-be!**

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Not Dead Yet: Overcoming Rivalries I

AKA: An Explanation of Why Draco Now Likes the Weasleys

Draco POV

I will admit, the Weasley clan has grown on me over the years. At first, they were just a convenience. An alliance only useful for not getting sentenced with all the other Death Eaters. But then, they asked my family and me to attend their celebrations. They were still grieving over the loss of Harry. Ron was the first to make it clear our rivalry was over. Of course, he was drunk, but still. It's the thought that counts.

_It was Winter Solstice and I was at the Weasleys. Wonderful. Mother says I use too much sarcasm and one of these days some old foggie is going to take what I say literally and I will end up dead. Father says it improves my lying skills. He slept on the couch for a week after that._

_As I was saying, I sulked at the bar until I thought I had been there long enough. I rose from the bar stool to collect my parents from whatever shadow they had found to hide in. Unfortunately , I was thunked back down by a certain red head. That's not saying much seeing as how nearly everyone in the room was a ginger._

"_Where do you think yur goin'?" Ron slurred. "Mum made a real nice dinner. You'd be im-impo-mean to leave before you even get a chance to taste the pie." He plopped down on the stool beside me. "'Sides, your folks are busy talkin' ta my folks." He blinked blurrily and waved a hand at the general direction they were in. "I really shouldn'ta played a drinkin' game wi' George. I'm pretty sure he vanished the shots as he put 'em in 'is mouth anyways."_

_I raised an eyebrow. This is what Weasleys do during family get togethers? Play drinking games? I shook my head in disbelief. My family attended business balls or had a quiet dinner together. I wanted to feel disgust toward the Weasleys. The thing was, I was jealous. Me, Draco Malfoy, heir to Lucius Malfoy's inheritance._

_There was something about the way they interacted with each other. A sort of casualness I rarely ever found at home. I glanced over at where my parents were. Mother was speaking animatedly to the Weasley matriarch. I couldn't tell what they were talking about, but they both seemed passionate about the topic._

_My eyes slid over a few yards until I found my father sitting in an armchair across from Arthur Weasley. I furrowed my eyebrows in concentration. None of what I was seeing made any sense. Maybe I was more drunk than I realized. Wait. I didn't even have anything to drink._

_Back to Father and Mr. Weasley. Both had glasses of wine in their hands, sipping occasionally. I recognized Father's demeanor to be the one he used for those he did a great deal with business with. The ones he actually enjoyed spending time with. I shook my head, attempting to compute this new information in my brain. It was then I finally realized the Weasley next to me was rambling on about something._

"_...and Mum knit you a sweater too! She didn't know what you would like. I mean, obviously she would make it green, but she didn't know what to put on it. She had put a snitch on for Harry, ya know, since he was a Seeker. But she didn't think you would like that. Mum was also pretty sure you wouldn't like a 'D' on it for Draco. That's what she did for Fred and George so she wouldn't get them mixed up. Of course, they would just switch sweaters._

"_Then she thought of knitting a snake on it. She knew you would appreciate that, since your a Slytherin and all. Now, Mum obviously didn't know how to make a snake, so she got all these books with cool snake designs on them. I think she'll make a different one each year." _

_Wait, what? A sweater? His mum made a sweater for me? I feel like I've missed a whole chunk of my life. When did Malfoy-Weasley alliances begin happening again? Our feud has been around for so long it is written in the history books. Not all of it is about Pureblood supremacy either._

_I came out of my trace to notice Ron was still rambling. "So that's why your mum and my mum are so chummy. She figures if Harry could look past all the Slytherin-e-ness, then we can too. Dad is talking to your dad on how to make the family feud null and void. At least think those are the words he used. Might've been bull and fried."_

_I thought it prudent to take advantage of this information-dispenser. Perhaps it has a replay function. "What about Harry looking past me being a Slytherin?" I made sure my voice was even, not betraying any emotion._

"_Ya, know. At Grimauld Place he was lookin' through the library 'cause Hermione told him to. He found some files about some Blacks who did some real nice things 'n' stuff. That got him thinking. If this guy could be nice-he was in Slytherin, forgot to mention that-then so could other Slytherins. So then he had this whole theory that Slytherins are only evil 'cause we tell 'em to be. So now we are friends. Ta da!" He spread his arms out wide to do a bow. Instead, he crumpled to the ground._

_Or, at least he would have if I hadn't caught him. That's right Ladies and Gents. I, Draconis Malfoy prevented a Weasley from getting hurt. I mean, he would've only had a bruise or two, but it was most definitely a night that would be written down in the history books. Take that Professor Binns!_

That was my first Weasley Winter Solstice. At the manor, Mother announced that she wanted to work at Hogwarts. Father and I were surprised; Ever since I could remember, Mother had sneered at all the working mothers. She had been of the opinion that they should be seen only at their husbands' sides. She explained that Mrs. Weasley had said it was hectic in the Hogwarts infirmary and could use the help.

Mother admitted to her interest in healing. In fact, she had been Madame Pomfrey's apprentice during her time at Hogwarts. Father could tell she would not back down from this, so he made no attempt to persuade her otherwise. I contemplated it for a moment. My parents felt guilty for the part they had played in the war. They donated money to hospitals and charities under the guise of ensuring they did not get sent to prison. I knew better.

By the time the holidays were over, Mother was employed as a Healer in the infirmary. Mother and Mrs. Weasley grew close, which was hard to get used to. Especially since I was henceforth treated like a nephew she doted on terribly.

I later found out Father and Mr. Weasley were doing business with each other. Apparently some of the Muggle inventions could be altered to be useful in the Wizarding World. At first my father did not like the idea. Then Mr. Weasley mentioned something called 'email'. All I know is it would mean no more annoying birds flapping all over the place. Father was all for it then.

Ron POV

We were all sitting in the Room of Requirement. The Room had provided us with large, comfy couches facing a fireplace. It was quiet. It wasn't the kind of comfortable silence you have with friends. Nor was it the tense silence you have with enemies. It was the absence of sound because we were all avoiding talking about a certain topic that needed to be spoken about. Even _I_ knew that.

Mum spoke first. "What are we going to tell Ginny?" Her voice was brittle and shaky. We had avoided talking about it until then. I mean it was my first thought when I say Harry, but then we were occupied with other things. Like keeping Harry alive.

"What do you think Harry thought of Ginny? Did he love her? Did he think she loved him?" George had always been protective of his siblings. According to him, he was the only one allowed to tease them other than family. But then again, Harry was family too.

"Ginny has been trying to move on. She went on a date with the Seeker in Africa's Avians. It went well. She was thinking of accepting his invitation for a second." Luna's voice broke through our contemplations. I blinked, surprised. Over the years she had gone through two of the three stages of grief: denial and anger. (Hermione told me that.) Hearing she had finally moved on seemed like a large step forward.

"I think we should ask Harry what he thinks first. Besides, he needs to recover completely before we bring relationships into the equation," my wife said. She had been completely devouring the books Healer Smith had recommended. Losing Harry had almost killed her. Finally having him back reawakened some part of her. The part of her I had fallen in love with in the first place.

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**AN: I am so sorry about the delay. This is why I hate winter. It makes me sick. Literally.**


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